TS 


Alden 
Consolation 


I  > 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  John  E.  Goodwin 


CONSOLATIO 

A    MEMORIAL    ODE 


C  ONSOLATIO 

Ode  in  memory  of  those  members  of 
the  Class  of  Nineteen  Hundred  and 
Three  of  Stanford  University  who  died 
during  the  month  of  their  graduation 


BY 


RAYMOND  MACDONALD  ALDEN 


Vir  sapiens  laetus  ex  his  tenebris 
in  lucem  illam  excesserit  .... 
Quo  cum  venerimus,  turn  denique  vivemus. 

—  CICERO. 


Paul  Elder  and  Company 
Publishers,  San  Francisco 


Copyright,  1903 
by  Paul  Elder  and  Company 


Th«  Tomoy*  Press 
San  Francisco 


This  Ode  was  read  at  the  Annual  Commencement  of 
the  University,  May  25,  1903,  and  is  published  at  the 
request  of  certain  of  the  graduates  and  their  friends. 


I. 


vernal  hills  bend  close, 
in  friendly  mass, 

And  Nature  warmly 

smiles 
Where  golden  poppies  glow 

among  the  wheat, 
And  broadcast  blossoms 

mark  the  advancing  feet 
Of  Summer's  dauntless  legions,  as  they  pass 
The  valley's  welcoming  miles. 
The  earth  keeps  holiday, 
And  they  that  lean  to  listen  hear  her  say: 
All  who  are  young,  rejoice  today  with  me! 
Break  forth  in  singing,  each  in  his  degree! 
But  chiefly  you  for  whom, 
While  all  the  world  makes  room, 
Your  Mother  lifts  her  gates  in  high  solemnity. 


II. 


UT  ah,  she  waits;  and  why 
Is  sober  youth's  reply 
Delayed,  while  doubts  op 
press 

His  natural  eagerness? 
Why  does  the  pageant,  at 

the  gate 
Where  myriad  hopes  and 

longings  wait, 

Pause,  as  though  stricken  by  some  shatter- 
ing  fate? 

While  some,  in  mute  distress, 
Look  to  and  fro,  as  for  a  comrade's  face, 
When  none  is  marching  in  his  vacant  place. 


III. 


E  saw  the  fair  young  Mother 

of  the  throng 
Standing  to  bless  them,  and 

to  hear  their  song 
Of  tender  parting,  ere  they 

broke  away, 
With  mingled  tearful  smiles 

and  smiling  tears 
Greeting  their  free  new  day;  — 
It  was  but  yestermorn,  men  say, 
And  yet  to  her  already  it  seemeth  years. 
For  while  she  waited,  smiling,  in  her  hand 
The  keys  of  the  tomorrows,  which  she  gave 
Her  children,  bidding  them  through  all  the 

land 
Go  forth,  and  open,  conquer,  and  be  brave,— 

There  came  a  shadowing  wing 
That  rose  from  out  the  underworld  of  Death, 
The  taint  of  nightshade  on  its  hated  breath, 
And  swept  the  withered  leaves  of  Autumn 
into  Spring. 

And  when  its  presence  passed, 
Lo,  of  her  children  there  were  some  whose 

place 

Was  empty,  and  the  smile  upon  her  face 
Was  frozen  in  the  winter  of  that  blast. 


IV. 


,O  stands  she,  pale  and  still, 
With  the  mist  yet  o'er  her 

eyes, 
And  the  tremulous  surprise 

Of  her  grlef  havin£  its  win 
With  the  drifting  of  her 

hair. 

Young,  loving,  tender,  fair, 
Now  will  she  take  her  other  children  home 
Closer  to  the  warm  beating  of  her  heart; 
Yet  from  the  folded  flock  her  yearnings  roam 
To  them  who  go  for  evermore  apart. 


V. 


NE  sacred  place,  the  central 

shrine  of  all 
Her  joys  and  sorrows,  now 

at  length  hath  grown 
Complete,  since  under 


"lidLfWIl  Her  thousand  sons  and 
daughters,  at  her  call 

And  that  of  Death,  have  come  to  mourn  as 

one, — 

One  heart  that  common  griefs  and  fears  have 
made. 

Here  they  had  sung  and  prayed, 
Here  worshiped,  in  the  shade 
Of  cloistered  aisle  and  roof  of  storied  stone ; 
Here  rolled  the  organ's  solemn  voice,— 
Now  whispered  "Hush!"— now  cried  "Re 
joice!" 

Here  youth  and  love  had  plighted  troth, 
While  seraphs  leaned  and  smiled  on  both ; 
Here  crimson-tinted  sunlight,  reverent,  kissed 
The  altar  of  the  holy  Eucharist. 

But  one  thing  still  was  missed, — 
Sorrow,  to  fully  consecrate  the  shrine 
Of  love  and  pity  and  of  hope  divine. 
Now,  in  the  mystic  presence  of  our  dead, 
It  hath  been  perfected. 


VI. 


UT  they !  O  they  were  young, 
and  hoped  so  much! 
The  brow  of  youth 

was  bright 
With  dew  that  shimmered 

in  the  morning  light 
Of  promises  and  prophecies, 

e'en  such 
As  none  had  dared  to  dream  in  earlier  day. 

And  in  this  time  of  May, 
One  looking  in  the  deeps  of  their  young  eyes 
Caught  embryo  glimpses  of  their  coming 
strength  — 

Shadows  of  great  emprise, 
And  ghostly  continents  they  should  explore; 
New  Darien  peaks  whereon  to  stand  at 
length, 

Masters  of  untold  lore. 
And  softer  lights  foretold  the  dreams 
Of  the  sweet  pangs  of  love,  that  sometimes 

seems 
The  dearest  hope  which  all  this  weary  world 

redeems. 
O  heart  of  heaven !  must  now  this  bourgeon 

bloom, 

Blotting  its  happy  future  from  our  sight, 
Out  from  the  Spring's  illimitable  light, 
Fade  in  the  dateless  empire  of  the  tomb  ? 


VII. 


kO!  saith  our  heart;  ah,  no! 
Their  life  fadeth  not  so. 
Here  on  the  brink  they 

stood 
Of  all  that  is  great  and 

good; 
They  lived  for  the  coming 

hope: 

Their  future  hath  caught  them  up. 
Love  and  the  world  before  them  — 
Infinite  kingdoms  o'er  them — 
They  sooner  found  than  we  the  path 
To  that  their  coming  empire  hath, 
Borne  from  us  all  in  love  and  not  in  wrath. 
The  continents  that  swam  before  their  eyes 
In  the  young  conqueror's  vision, 
Unfold  in  realms  elysian, 
And  peerless  unsealed  peaks  rise  ever  in 
their  skies. 

Dropping  our  humbler  keys, 
They  open  great  tomorrows  of  the  spirit, 
And  evermore  magnificently  inherit 
The  golden  doors  of  nobler  mysteries. 
Through  vaulted  cloisters  of  new  wisdom  led 
By  masters  such  as  freer  creatures  merit 

(Great  souls  of  ages  dead), 
Their  life  and  lore  increase,  which  here  have 
vanished. 


VIII. 


while  our  Mother  spreads 

her  gates  apart 

For  those  who  enter  bound- 
less  life  today, 

She  cries  "All  hail!"  to  speed 
them  on  their  way, 
"All  hail !"  and  then  - 

"Farewell!" 
And  in  the  secret  chambers  of  her  heart 
There  echoes  low  the  same  farewell  and  hail 
For  those  who  in  the  life  immortal  dwell. 
She  bids  them  forward  go, — 
Limitless  lands  explore, — 
Calls  sweetly  to  them:  "Still  my  children, 

though 

I  see  your  upturned  faces  here  no  more!" 
And  unto  us:  "Be  strong! 
God's  years  are  sure  and  long. 
There  is  time  enough  and  room  enough  for 

all 

The  work  and  all  the  sorrow  'neath  the  sun ; 
Do  well  today:  today  is  never  done: 
If  one  world  fail,  another  answereth  your 
call." 


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